


Daughter, mother, father, Inspector, cat

by laughingpineapple



Category: Ghost Trick: Phantom Detective
Genre: Ficlet Collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-10-25
Updated: 2012-10-25
Packaged: 2017-11-17 00:55:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/545732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laughingpineapple/pseuds/laughingpineapple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Flawless family unit.<br/>Mostly fluffy, mostly new timeline-based ficlets on Jowd's extended family (Lynne and Missile can come too).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. For stuffy days

"Easy! It takes a microscope to fiiigure you out. When you start being obvious, you're past a threshold."  
Touché.  
"Now that you ask, baby, upsetting you is the fastest way to find out what you're thinking!"  
...talk about thresholds, now. Don't push it, partner.  
It's harder when it's about him. Cabanela barks and stampedes when he's vexed at work, but that's it. Nothing personal: that part's all covered and wrapped up in white. It's blinding.

Jowd knows his trick, he's fallen for it for five years in another life, but Cabanela is good enough a player that knowing isn't enough for his opponent to prevent. Or Jowd's bad enough. That's an option too.  
He doesn't know when his friend might need him, so he takes a page from the man himself and goes with random acts of kindness, hoping that at least one will land when it's needed (or that, more likely, its memory will).

 

The sun has almost set beyond the docks as he comes in waltzing along the wharf, fashionably late, just as Alma fetches their picnic basket and grabs a chicken croquette, declaring it cooled down enough for that torrid summer evening. He perches himself on the bench's armrest, challenging Kamila to abandon her narrow seat between her parents ("Aaanyone can sit on a bench, come on!") and balance herself on his knees. Somehow, they eat and drink under the streetlamp's warm yellow light. Somehow, they talk about everything and nothing. Somehow, it's a relief that the wharf's sidewalk is wide enough that none of the three (plus kid - the little one's developing a sharp tongue for her age) risk a forced plunge into the sea after a despicable show of witticism. Kamila falls asleep in her mother's arms; other families and lovers desert the dock. Their own chatter falls into whispers and comes to a halt. They look at the dark horizon.

He hopes it helps someday. For now, it feels good.


	2. Not bad at presents after all

“What about us?”, Jowd asks with a lopsided grin as Lynne exits the scene under a halo of flowers. Predictable: the chances he'd let it slide were about one in 'you wish'.

“Didn't take you two for red roses types, baby.”

“Didn't take _you_ for a frugal guest.”

“You would have laughed.”

“Of course I would have.”

“So I had to get creative.

“Amaze us, then.”

“Lady and geeentleman, I gift you with my presence – nothing like it!”

Jowd laughs, of course, but doesn't reply. It feels like a compliment.


	3. Runs in the family

“Do you like mom or dad better?”  
“Nuh-uh. Not telling.”  
“Why not?”  
“Because. Young girls are taught not to answer that question–”  
Cabanela took a good look at the smiling angel in front of him: jerk, dominant gene, manifests itself at a young age. Nothing like it.  
“–and espeeecially not to ask it, baby!”


End file.
